Hilde
by Iris and Jaid
Summary: A parody of Emma with the GW crew. =D R&R!!!!!!
1. Chapter 1

Jaid: Hi! It's me! Anywayz, I'd like to introduce my friend, Iris Omega.  
  
Iris: Hello!  
  
Jaid: This story is a parody of Emma. Iris thought it up…so if you don't like, it's all her fault.  
  
Iris: -__- Thanx Jaid  
  
Jaid: ^__^ You're welcome  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Chapter One  
  
by Jaid Skywalker  
  
  
  
There are times in our lives, when great happiness also comes with great sadness. This is what Hilde Schbieker reflected on during the wedding of one Sally Po.  
  
At twenty-one, Hilde was the youngest of two daughters. She was beautiful, healthy, rich, and had the appropriate confidence in herself and her station. Hilde's mother had died when she was very young and for sixteen years Sally Po had been her constant companion; almost a replacement for the mother the girl had lost. Hilde was very sorry to see her confidant go, but could not begrudge her happiness as she stood with her new husband, who was beaming and smiling as much as his new wife. Standing, Hilde walked over, making sure that her countenance was one of utmost happiness.  
  
Sally turned as the younger girl walked up. The two women embraced and when they pulled back, Sally gave her an unsure look.  
  
"You will not miss me too much, will you Hilde? I am but half a mile away and you can always come and see me should you need to."  
  
"Of course. I know that." Hilde smiled. "And do not trouble yourself about me. Father and I will get along fine. Besides, you have someone else to worry about know." She grinned roguishly. Sally smiled and shook her head.  
  
"Even so, I will miss you, my dear girl." she said tenderly, her blue eyes kind.  
  
"Dear Ms. Po," Hilde murmured, then stopped her self and smiled again. "No! You are dear Mrs. Winner now." she took Quatre's hand. "And there is no more fortunate man at the moment!"  
  
"I know." Quatre said quietly. Sally took his hand and smiled up into his face. Mr. Shcbeiker choose that moment to walk over, his face a mass of confusion and worry.  
  
"Ms. Po," he stated. "I believed I advised you not to have wedding cake! Wedding cake is apt to cause bad stomach pains."  
  
"Father," Hilde gently interrupted. "If the guests eat in moderation, I'm sure that no harm will come to them."  
  
"I still do not approve." he said. "Where is Palm, the chelmist? I know he'll agree with me."  
  
"He's over there." Quatre nodded in the direction.  
  
"With a piece of wedding cake." Hilde finished. Mr. Schbieker turned and eyes widening, he strode towards the chelmist.  
  
* * *  
  
Later that evening, after Hilde and her father had dined, they seated themselves in the drawing room. Hilde intended to take out the backgammon board, so that her father would have a diversion and not grieve himself over losing Sally.  
  
"Poor Miss Po! I wish she were here. What a pity that Mr. Winner ever thought to court her." he sighed in melancholy.  
  
"I cannot agree with you, Papa." Hilde said, remembering the joy in Sally's face and the quiet happiness on Quatre's. "You know I cannot. Mr. Winner is such a good-humored, pleasant and excellent man that he deserves such a good wife and you must admit, Sally will fit the position perfectly. Besides, why would you have her live with us, with all our odd humors, when she can have a house of her own?"  
  
"A house of her own? But what advantage does that have when this one is three times as large? And you never have any odd humors, my dear."  
  
"But Papa, think how often we can go to see them and how often they can come to see us!"  
  
"My dear, I can not walk that far."  
  
"Well, we will take the carriage of course."  
  
"No, James will not like to be put through all that work just to go half a mile. And where are the poor horses to stay while we visit?"  
  
"Mr. Winner has a stable, Papa. And he insisted that we use it if we ever bring the carriage. And James will not be put out by going to the Winners; his daughter is a maid there."  
  
Hilde inwardly sighed, and wondered if she would ever be able to convince her father that Sally would be very happy, and that they would get along fine. She was saved by the appearance of a very welcome guest.  
  
Mr. Trieze Khusrenada owned the land next to theirs, and furthermore, his half brother Heero Yuy had married Hilde's sister; Lucrezia. Trieze had known Hilde all her life; he had been sixteen when she was born. Trieze was sensible man and known as the highest standard of a gentleman. He was always welcomed at Highbury, the Schbiekers residence, and tonight even more so, as he had just returned from Sank and most likely had news of Lucrezia and Heero.  
  
After greetings were exchanged and Mr. Schbieker inquired after "Poor Lucrezia" and her children, Mr. Schbieker commented gratefully,  
  
"It is most kind of you to visit, Treize. Especially at this late hour. I'm afraid you must have had quite a walk."  
  
"Not at all! It is a beautiful night and so mild, I feel I must draw back from your fire." Treize answered.  
  
"But surely it was damp and cold." Mr. Schbieker persisted. "Your shoes must be very dirty."  
  
"Dirty, sir? No, look at my shoes. Not even a speck of dirt."  
  
"Well, that is surprising, given the extraordinary amount of rain we have had. It rained for half an hour during breakfast. I wanted them to put off the wedding."  
  
"I have not wished you joy." Trieze said. "But I am well aware of the joy you must be feeling, which is why I have been slow in offering my congratulations. I hope it went off well. How did you behave? Who cried the most?"  
  
"Poor Miss Po." Mr. Schbieker sighed once again.  
  
"Forgive me, sir, but I can not possibly agree. I have a great regard for you and Hilde, but it must be considerably more pleasant for Miss Po to have only one to please rather than two."  
  
"Especially when one is such a fanciful and troublesome creature." Hilde commented playfully, her blue eyes full of light. "That is just what you are thinking, I know. You would say it if my father would not here."  
  
"I believe it to be true." Mr. Schbieker said in regret. "I am the most troublesome creature at times."  
  
"Dear Papa, I could not mean you, or even suppose to think that Mr. Khushrenada meant you! No, I meant myself. Trieze loves to find fault with me and is always telling me so. It is a joke, papa, all a joke. We always say what we like to each other." Hilde looked affectionately at her sickly father, who smiled and patted her hand.  
  
It was true; Treize was on of the few people who could find faults in Hilde and never hesitated to tell her of them. This was not particularly agreeable to Hilde, but she understood why he told her. However, she knew that her father could not bear anybody thinking of her as less than perfect.  
  
"Hilde knows I never flatter her." Treize broke in. "But I meant no reflection on anybody. Miss Po has been used to having two persons to please, but now she only has one. She is the gainer."  
  
"Well," Hilde answered, willing to let it pass for the moment. "You do want to hear about the wedding, and I most happy to oblige. Everyone was very charming and of course dressed their best. Nobody was late and there was not a tear, indeed not a long face to be seen. No, we felt that we would only be half a mile apart and are sure of meeting every day."  
  
"Dear Hilde bears it so well." Mr. Schbieker said. "But, Treize, she is really very sorry to lose poor Miss Po. I'm sure she will miss her sorely."  
  
Hilde looked down, smiling, but tears threatened to shine in her eyes. Trieze looked at her.  
  
"It would be impossible for Hilde to not miss such a companion." He said quietly. "We should not think of her as highly as we do if she did not feel so. But she understands the advantage of Miss Po's marriage, to be happily married, settled in her own home and so cannot feel as much pain as pleasure. Every friend of Miss Po must feel happy for her."  
  
"And you have forgotten one matter." Hilde broke in, a genuine smile having returned to her face. "A very considerable one. I made the match myself four years ago and to have it take place and proved right, especially when so many people said that Mr. Winner would never marry again, is more than enough comfort for me."  
  
Trieze shook his head, while her father replied, "Dear, I wish you would not make matches and predict things, especaily when they come true. Do not make any more."  
  
"I will not for myself, papa." Hilde promised. "But I will for other people. It is a very great amusement. And after such a success! Everyone was positive that Quatre Winner would not marry after his first wife's death, especially as he was so comfortable without a wife and had so many friends. He would not have had to spend a single night alone if he did not like it. Some people seemed to believe that he had promised his wife on her deathbed that he would never remarry or the son or uncle not wishing it. All sort of nonsense. Ever since the day Sally and I first met him in the lane four years ago, and he was so polite and gallant, that I made up my mind that they were perfect for each other. It is such a blessing to have such success. Papa, you cannot think that I would leave off matchmaking."  
  
"I do not understand what you mean by success." Treize said. "Success implies endeavor. If you have, for the past four years, patiently and delicately laboring to bring this very wedding about, then I congratulate you. But if you have only thought of it in your mind, then it is naught but a lucky guess and that is all that can be said."  
  
"Have you never known the triumph and gladness a lucky guess can bring?" Hilde asked. "I pity you. I thought you much cleverer, for a lucky guess is not always luck. There has to be talent in it. And so as to my poor choice of word, with which you quarrel, I do not see why I have no claim to it. You have drawn two pictures, but I add a third. Something between the do-nothing and the do-all. If I had not promoted Mr. Winner's visits here and given many various little encouragements, it might have come to naught. I think you know Hartfield enough to understand that."  
  
"A straight-forward, open-hearted man like Quatre and an unaffected, rational woman like Sally can be left to manage their own affairs." Trieze answered. "You were more likely to harm them than to help by interfering."  
  
"Hilde never thinks of others." Mr. Schbieker broke in warmly. "Not when she can bring joy to others. But my dear, no more matches. They break up one's family circle."  
  
"Just one more Papa." Hilde begged. "For Mr. Marquise. You like him Papa. Besides, he's been here almost a year and has fitted up his house so nicely, that it would be a shame for him to remain single. And I thought when he joined hands today that he looked as if he would very much like to have someone do that for him."  
  
"Mr. Marquise is a very good young man, and very handsome. I do have a great regard for him. But if you want to show him attention, dear, ask him to come and dine with us. I dare say, Treize would not be adverse to meeting him."  
  
"With a great deal of pleasure." Treize said, laughter in his eyes at the exchange between father and daughter. "I agree it will be a better thing. Invite him for dinner, Hilde and help him to the best of the fish and the chicken but let him choose his own wife. Depend on it, a man of twenty-four can take care of himself."  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
Jaid: Tell us what you think! And no flames; if you don't like the story, just don't review. Constructive criticism, however, is greatly appreciated.  
  
Iris: I guess we should've warned about the alternate pairings…  
  
Jaid: Yeah, that would've been good…. 


	2. Chapter 2

Iris: The alternate pairings weren't that bad, were they?  
  
Jaid: I'd say yes, but I thought some of them up.  
  
Iris: =P Thanks a lot, Jaid. I knew I could always depend on you for support.  
  
Jaid: Welcome!  
  
Iris: Anyway, here's the next chapter!  
  
**************************************************************************  
  
Chapter Two  
  
by Iris Omega  
  
  
  
Mr. Winner was a native of Highbury, and born of a rather respectable and gentile family. He had received a good education, but had become indisposed for any of the more homely pursuits in which his brothers were engaged; and had entered into the militia of his country.  
  
Now it so happened that the chances of his military life had introduced him to Miss Maxwell, of a great Yorkshire family. Miss Maxwell fell in love with him, to which no one was surprised except her brother and his wife, who had never seen him, and who were full of pride and importance, and who were offended by this match.  
  
Miss Maxwell, however, was of age and had the full command of her fortune—though her fortune bore no proportion to the family-estate—was not to be dissuaded from marrying Mr. Winner. It was, unfortunately, an unsuitable connection, and did not produce much happiness. Mrs. Winner ought to have found more in it, for she had a husband whose warm heart and sweet temper made him think of every thing due to her for the great goodness of being in love with him. Even if she didn't have the best of spirits. They lived beyond their income, but she did not cease loving her husband, but she wanted at once to be the wife of Captain Winner.  
  
Quatre Winner, who had been considered as making an amazing match, was proved to have much the worst of the bargain; for when his wife died after a three years' marriage, he was rather a poorer man than at first, and with a child to care for. But from that small expense, he was soon relieved. The boy had been the means of a sort of reconciliation; and Mr. And Mrs. Maxwell, having no children of their own, offered to take the whole charge of little Duo soon after her decease. The child was given up to the care and the wealth of the Maxwells, and he had only his own comfort to seek and his own situation to improve.  
  
A complete change in Mr. Winner's life became desirable. He quitted the militia and engaged in trade. He had a small house in Highbury where most of his leisure days were spent; and between useful occupation and the pleasure of society, the next eighteen or twenty years of his life passed cheerfully away. He had, by that time, realized and easy competence—enough to secure the purchase of a little estate adjoining Highbury, which he had always longed for—enough to marry a woman as portionless even as Miss Po, and to live according to the wishes of his own family.  
  
It was now some time since Miss Po had begun to influence his schemes; but as it was not the tyrannic influence of youth on youth, it had not shaken his determination of never settling till he could purchase Randalls. He had gone steadily on with these objects in view till they were accomplished. He had made his fortune, bought his house, and obtained his wife; and was beginning a new period of existence with greater happiness than in any yet passed through.  
  
He had only himself to please in his choice; his fortune was his own. As for Duo, he had been brought up as his uncle's heir, therefore it was unlikely that he should ever want his father's assistance. Nevertheless, he saw his son every year in London, and was very proud of him; and his fond report of him as a very fine young man had made Highbury feel a sort of pride in him too.  
  
Mr. Duo Maxwell was one of the boasts of Highbury, and a lively want to see him prevailed. But his coming to visit his father had been often talked of and never achieved.  
  
Now, upon his father's marriage, it was very generally proposed that the visit should take place. There was not a dissentient voice on the subject, either when Mrs. Perry drank tea with Mrs and Miss Une, or when Mrs and Miss Une returned the visit. Now was the time for a visit from Mr. Duo Maxwell; and the hope was strengthened when it was heard that he had written to his new mother on the occasion. For a few days, every morning visit in Highbury included some mention of the handsome letter Mrs. Winner had received. "I suppose you have heard of the handsome latter Mr. Duo Maxwell had written to Mrs. Winner? I understand it was a very handsome letter in his life"  
  
It was, indeed, a highly-prized letter. Mrs. Winner had formed a very favorable idea of the young man, and such pleasing attention was an irresistible proof to his good sense, and a most welcome addition to every expression of congratulation which her marriage had already secured. She felt herself a most fortunate woman; and she had lived long enough to know how fortunate she might well be thought.  
  
She knew that at times she must be missed; and could not think, without pain, of Hilde's losing a single pleasure, or suffering an hour's fatigue from the want of her companionableness. But dear Hilde was more equal to her situation than most girls would have been, and had sense and energy and spirits that would bear her well through little difficulties and privations. And then there was the comfort in the very easy distance between Randalls and Hartfield, convenient enough for even solitary female walking, and in Mr. Winner's disposition, made no hindrance to their spending half the evenings in the week together.  
  
Her situation was altogether the subject of hours of gratitude to Mrs. Winner, and only moments of regret. Her cheerful enjoyment was just and so apparent, that Hilde, well as she knew her father, was sometimes taken by surprise at his being still able to pity "poor Miss Po," when they left her at Randalls in the centre of every comfort, or saw her go away in the evening attended by her pleasant husband to a carriage of her own. But never did she go without Mr. Schbieker's giving a gentle sigh, and saying:  
  
"Ah, poor Miss Po. She would be very glad to stay."  
  
There was no recovering Miss Po, but a few weeks brought some alleviation to Mr. Schbieker. The compliments of his neighbors were over; he was no longer teased by being wished joy of so sorrowful an event.  
  
**************************************************************************  
  
Iris: Uh, Jaid?  
  
Jaid: Yeah?  
  
Iris: We made Quatre Duo's dad.  
  
Jaid: Uh, yeah. I guess we did.  
  
Iris: Listen peeps, we didn't make this weird on purpose.  
  
Jaid: No, we didn't, just Iris did.  
  
Iris - - Thanx a lot.  
  
----  
  
Jaid: Hee hee hee. Anyway, R&R!!!!!!!! 


End file.
